Smile
by Rockhandjive
Summary: The Corbus Grande has never seen such unlikely strangers nor has it ever heard such an interesting conversation as that held by Severus Snape and Harry Potter as they wait for the snow to fall. Mild SSHP, part of the Je Me Souviens series
1. Smile

_Smile, kitty, smile  
Open your mouth  
And show your fangs  
The world wants to see your  
Smile, kitty  
Smile_

Two figures sit at a table, one gapes and one is blank. They were once familiar though neither knows from when or where. One remembers chocolate and gossamer, the other remembers a four-posted bed with silver hangings. They both recall a cottage by the sea.

Silence.

One speaks.

'Fish and chips?' the man known as Harry asks.

The other, Severus, raises a rounded Roman eyebrow, 'Many people, I would presume, enjoy fish and chips.'

Harry silently squirms in his chair.

Severus watches him.

'Do you—do you remember…_anything_?' Harry asks to break the oppressing silence.

The eyebrow arches once again.

'I remember a great deal of things, Mr. Potter. I have been led to understand that that is what humans do. We remember.'

Harry blushes and stammers for a time, trying to think of something to say. Eventually he comes out with: 'Have you ever been by the ocean?'

'I am from Cardiff, Mr. Potter. As I seem to also recall, Cardiff is somewhat near the sea.'

'Of course, of course, but did you live right near it?'

'No, I did not.'

They are interrupted by the waitress bringing their order of fish and chips, light on the salt. The waitress stops and makes small talk. The lunch crowd is not particularly heavy today and she can spare a moment to interrogate these strange men with skin, she thinks, like snow and eyes like Death.

As the waitress leaves, plump bottom swaying and high heels clicking on the old wood floor, Harry remembers a different waitress with glittery shoes and warming drinks.

'I believe you were trying to make a point,' Severus says.

'Yes…yes…the ocean. If you've never lived by it and I've never even been to a beach…do you remember ever renting a white cottage? It, er…it had silver curtains made from gossamer, I think,' Harry stutters and stammers some more, playing with his chips.

'Under normal circumstances I would find such a demand highly offensive. However, given that we are not under normal circumstances, I will tell you that yes, I do recall such a thing,' Severus crosses a long, black clad leg as he speaks and Harry remembers the word **_Vita_** tattooed on his the other man's thigh.

It takes a few moments before Harry speaks—he must finish his mouthful and Severus sips Merlot and hopes it will not stain his teeth. When he has finished, Harry asks him if he knows where the cottage with the silver gossamer curtains would be. Severus does not know.

'It's going to be on a beach and I think I remember grey sand,' Harry tells Severus, 'There can't be many beaches like that, right?'

Severus stares at him.

'And why should it matter _where_ this supposed cottage is?'

Harry is frustrated and fidgets with his fork among the white walls of the Corbus Grande. He needs Severus to believe him, to help him though he does not know why.

'I asked you a question, Mr. Potter,' Severus says, 'Why should it matter where this cottage stands?'

'Because—because it just does!' Harry hits the teak table, making the glasses rattle and the other diners regard him with alarm.

'Stand _down_, Mr. Potter,' Severus snaps.

He reaches as if to grab Harry's wrist and for a moment his fingers brush the bare skin. It is as if a very large truck has hit him but instead of pain, Severus is swamped in memories.

Laughter and tears and secret kisses stolen between verbal barbs. That damned four-posted bed with the silver hangings. But this time it holds a body amidst the down duvet and sheets. The body is young and wiry with tousled hair and lips the flavour of gossamer.

Severus drops his hand and Harry sits—docile for the moment.

'Bloody _hell_,' Harry breathes and Severus sips his wine with more vigour than before.

'Quite,' says Severus before he abandons the empty glass.


	2. Grin

_Grin, cat, grin  
__Snort and laugh  
__Bite and yowl  
__But let us hear your  
__Grin, cat,  
__Grin_

Two figures pay separate bills to a plump waitress in high heels. One is short and one is tall and they both have skin like snow and eyes like Death. Neither knows the other though they were once lovers of a sort.

Bells chime.

The door opens.

They leave.

One walks south and the other walks north. One is going home to a penthouse suite and the other to a dingy little flat with grime on the windows. One will go home and read over old cases of law all written in Latin and one will go home to his black and white telly. Both will remember the other this time.

Harry scuffs his feet and decides that he will soon need new shoes. Boots preferably and before the snow arrives. A new coat would be welcomed since the moths and bluebottles have made their home in his old one. Now Harry is forced to wear a jumper he found that he does not remember. It is the same green of his eyes and obviously hand made. It is very, very warm but not warm enough to keep out the chill sometimes.

Severus walks like someone well born and highly bred. His shoes are shined and his coat is made of the finest of wools and tightly woven. His own jumper was bought at one of the large department stores London has, it is charcoal grey and very well made like all of his clothes. Yet despite all of this, there are times when he shivers as if cold though he is so very, very warm.

It has been an awkward day for them both. Memories that neither has ever experienced fly at them like the soon-to-come snow and before Harry has gone two blocks, Severus turns and calls to him. The memories must stop and Harry is somehow the key.

'Yes?' Harry says back to Severus.

'I—you—perhaps a search of beaches renting cottages is in order?'

Harry nods and goes home.

Severus turns and returns to his home. He leaves the old law cases to collect dust and instead turns to his computer. It is big and shiny and ugly in all its metallic glory. It has the latest Internet connection and can load even the largest pages in less than one second. It has one of the strongest firewalls in London and if Severus is lucky, he uses it once a month.

It whirrs and clicks as he turns it on and the screen blinks quickly to life. In a matter of moments Severus is on Google and searching for cabin rentals. None match. They are all too old, too new or not white enough. It is as if his own memory cabin has disappeared.

Or maybe, though he refuses to believe this, it was not a memory at all but merely a trick of the mind. His shrink says he is well now, that his medications keep it at bay but sometimes, when Severus awakes shaking in the night, he doesn't believe the man.

But then why does Harry recall the same thing?

Does he awake hours before the sunrises too and does he see that cottage as if it were real, in the small hours of the night?


	3. Smirk

_Smirk, you foul feline, smirk  
__Smirk at me  
__Let the world see  
__And groan in your distrust!  
__So go on, show us your  
__Smirk, feline  
__Smirk_

_We're sick of you now  
__So go away,  
__You festering, foul, frightening feline  
__You cool, crazy, cantankerous cat  
__Put yourself back in the  
__Oldie  
__Mouldy  
__Toy chest  
__You conniving, crying  
__Kitty!_

Somewhere in the world, something happened years ago. No one remembers it because they choose not to. No one remembers it because it is taboo and no one remembers it because it never happened.

But before this thing never happened, two people knew something that no other person did. They figured out how to unmake the thing that unhappened. They laboured for hours and days and months to discover that little tear that most fabrics have. That most spells and other forms of enchantments are possessing of and they made the rip wider.

These two people made enough rips so that if they wanted to, they could remember what they were supposed to forget. Now their psyches want to remember what happened but their conscious minds don't. Now there is a problem since these two people have met once again. Now the clues begin to unravel like the fabric that was once so finely woven.


End file.
